Boo-Yah!

People often asked me why I was studying PR if I knew I was going to enter ministry.

This is why!

So fresh and so clean, clean,

Kent

Number three gets married

Driving to Michigan from Californian–our conversation slipped awkward.

Somewhere between playing a masculine game of I spy and singing Springsteen’s Born in the USA, the dry, dusty, Mid-western air suffocated our masculininity and turned Jamos, Eric and me soft.

“So who do you think is going to get married first?” I asked, sounding like a woman.

“What!?” Eric choked. If he had been drinking water he would have clearly spit it across the windshield. “You can’t ask that? Dude! Do you realize the harm one can cause with such words? It could put a lot of pressure on that person!”

“Shut up!” I respond pointedly. I have always had a way with words.

“I don’t know,” I continued. “I thought it would be a conversation starter… You know something to talk about since this Oklahoma landscape is such a water cooler stimulant. I think it is going to be Jamos!”

I snuck in my answer before more debate could be given.

A coma of silence overtook the car. Minutes went by. Eric started to speak, paused, contemplated, then finally spoke again.

“Yeah… You’re right. I think Jamos too.” Eric shot back.

I could feel Jamos’s stare. His body language said disinterested but his eyes spoke otherwise.

“It is true… it is going to be me.” Jamos gave in. His words revealed the obvious. Whether he wanted to admit it or not he would be the first one to get married.

On this day, Eric, Jamos and I were not dating anyone.

—

What most people don’t know is that Eric and my pilgrimage was initially designed for three. The original idea was for Jamos, Eric and me to travel the world together.

But as the planning became tangible and Eric and I started vigorously contacting ministries, Jamos dropped out due to personal reasons.

For a longtime I took this personal.

—

Jamos got married last weekend. He was the first of the three.

Eric and I drove up from Nashville. We were both in the wedding.

There is still apart of me that wishes Jamos had gone on the pilgrimage. I think of the insight he could have added, the humility he would have brought and the community we would have experienced.

But as I stood barefoot, toes covered in the sand, I couldn’t help but feel like Jamos made the right decision.

Emily, his new wife, cried joyfully–passionately. Jamos smiled tenderly. They held hands and whispered “I love you” as they exchanged vows.

The ten months Eric and I spent on the road were the most amazing days of my life. But as I continue to walk forward, I am valuing the beauty in others’ experiences.

I am learning love and grace is experienced in many different ways.

To your story,
Kent